


Door Prize

by Rayearthmagic



Series: Fragments [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Lost Light shenanigans, M/M, Rodimus being Rodimus, Sort Of, dratchet - Freeform, someone explain to rodimus what's a door prize, things just don't make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayearthmagic/pseuds/Rayearthmagic
Summary: What Ratchet really wants is a drink after a long day.  Walking into Swerve's feels like a trap where he's the winner...  Things just don't make sense.





	Door Prize

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this old thing in my WIP folder. Maybe I'll finish it one day, and maybe not. In any case, here it is! Enjoy!

Ratchet cursed his luck. He was looking forward to enjoying some engex before retiring to his suite. The double-shift day had been long, and the medic was tired down to his struts and desperately needed to recharge. But first, what he really needed was a drink or three.

The moment he stepped into Swerve's, the crowd cheered and confetti rained down on him. The bar was packed to the seams. In fact, he’s never seen that many patrons at once before. _Oh, scrap._ Ratchet realized he had walked into some raucous event, and if it was following the trend, it was probably a lightly veiled excuse for debauchery. He was about to turn around and walk right back out, abandoning his plans for Engex, when Rodimus slung an arm around his shoulders and announced that the door prize had arrived.

 _The frag?_ "Excuse me?" Ratchet's glare could cleave a metal rod(imus) in two.

Ignoring the death stare, the red speedster launched into his explanation, in the form of a checklist. "Door prize. Dare or Dare night. You know, it’s like Truth or Dare, but you leave out the Truth. Competition du jour before midnight. Winner picks a number, and the n-th mech who walks into the bar after midnight is the prize. It was all explained in detail in the memo I sent yesterday." Before Ratchet could respond that he hadn't received it, Rodimus continued, "And don't say you didn't get it because I got the read confirmation."

After a quick scan of his sent items, Ratchet cursed his habit of automatically acknowledging emails to ignore them.  This sure was coming back to bite him in the aft. He shook off the captain’s offending arm. “Of all the glitched up sorry excuses-”  

Unaffected, the flamboyant captain spoke right over him to declare that Ratchet's presence affirmed his consent to tonight's game and called the winner to the front of this spectacle. “Loverboy!  Come claim your door prize for winning the game earlier.”

Did the ridiculous mech even understand what a door prize was?  Growling, Ratchet unsubspaced a wrench, prepared to fend off the victor’s amorous advances. He didn't have time for this.  He came in for a drink, as simple as that.  Why were all these mechs standing in his way? Someone was going to pay. If not the moronic captain, then the moronic winner of this farce. But whatever insult he had prepared died in his intake as the crowd expelled a bashful and reluctant Drift before him.

Lowering his wrench, Ratchet felt his spark flutter inside its casing as he watched the ridiculously gorgeous swordsmech rub the back of his neck and gaze up at him shyly. Has he ever looked more adorable? “Drift? You’re the winner?”

“Heya, Ratch. Sorry about this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gratitude and blame are laid at [Rizobact](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/works)'s feet for the posting of this fic.


End file.
